CONNER was nervous. He hadn’t expected to be nervous. He was also excited and he’d expected that, but suddenly, standing up in front of the judge with a much larger audience than he’d counted on was a little disconcerting. Rio kept grinning at him and he found it was just better not to look at Leonardo or Felipe. Even Elijah had shot him a quick smirk before going off to patrol. He ran his finger around his collar and adjusted his tie one more time. Admittedly this was all his idea, so he couldn’t exactly run.
He wanted to marry Isabeau. It wasn’t that making him nervous. But what if she changed her mind? He shouldn’t have pushed her so hard. She was young. Nearly ten years younger than he was, and she’d been sheltered. What had he done? Come into her life, exposed her father, revealed she’d been adopted and then dragged her into a very dangerous situation. He took a breath and ran his sweaty palms down his thighs. Okay, she’d been the one to seek out the team for the present job, but truthfully, if he’d ever found out about his brother, he would have gone anyway, and he could have—
should
have protected her more . . .
The music started. Hushed murmurs rose and he turned his head. His heart stopped beating. The breath stilled in his lungs. Isabeau stood framed in the doorway, her gloved hand tucked into the crook of Doc’s elbow. She was in a floor-length gown that emphasized the curves of her body to perfection. Diamonds sparkled at her throat and ears. She looked ethereal, a princess in some fairy tale. She looked so beautiful his eyes burned and his throat felt raw. His heart managed to kick-start again, this time hammering in his chest. A roaring started in his head and muscles knotted in his stomach. Her wild hair looked elegant, and yet maintained her untamed appearance, adding to the throb in his groin.
He realized his mouth was open and he was devouring her with his eyes, but he couldn’t stop. There was no way to look away from her, a vision, walking toward him. He felt a mixture of emotions, humbled by the fact that she could love him after what he’d done—and what he might have to do. She was everything to him and he knew that emotion was raw and stark on his face for everyone to see, but he couldn’t mask it. He didn’t even want to try.
Mary sobbed in the front row and several other women dabbed at their eyes. One of the men blew his nose loudly. And then she was moving, walking toward him, her gaze on his, and his love grew with every step she took until he felt as if he might burst with it. He didn’t know if every groom felt this way, but in his world, where everything was life and death, where he saw the worst in people, this moment, surrounded by friends and good people, was perfection.
He glanced once at Rio to make certain he had the all-important ring. Doc’s friend, an older woman by the name of Monica Taylor, had brought him several boxes to allow him to pick out a ring for his bride. He’d never seen such beautiful work, and when he realized the jeweler was Monica, he was even more impressed. Her hands were twisted and gnarled with arthritis, and when she showed him the rings, she’d trembled.
Rio seemed to understand his concern and he nodded his head and made a show of touching his pocket, leaving Conner able to concentrate solely on his bride as she walked up the aisle to him. He wanted the moment to last forever, that image of her moving toward him. Everything else in the yard disappeared. Even his sense of self-preservation. He’d been raised to always—
always
—be on the alert for danger. There was a part of him aware of his surroundings, constantly vigilant, but in that moment, he was wholly focused, even his cat’s entire attention was completely centered on Isabeau.
He heard the judge asking who gave this woman to this man as if from a great distance. Doc’s voice murmured an answer and then he was placing Isabeau’s hand in Conner’s. He closed his fingers around hers and drew her hand to him. He leaned down, his gaze holding hers.
“You’re so beautiful, Isabeau. Thank you for this.”
Her lashes fluttered. She actually looked shy. He felt her fingers curl in his and his heart jumped again. He’d never felt so protective of anyone in his life. He pulled her close to him as they turned to face the judge. He wanted his body heat to envelope her, his scent, so that he filled her senses in the same way she filled his.
He could hear the man speaking about the sacred bond of marriage and at last he understood what he was really feeling. This was his other half. He was complete with her and she with him. They had chosen one another to share it all—both good and bad. They knew bad. They knew the worst of humanity—and the best. And they had chosen to walk a path together. He wanted that path to be the best he could make for her.
She looked into his eyes as she stated her vows in a soft, firm voice. He was clearer, confident, knowing his choice was right. With every passing moment of the binding ceremony, he felt the threads tying them together grow stronger until they were unbreakable bonds. She looked a little shocked when he removed her glove and pushed the ring onto her finger. She blinked up at him with a little gasp and then turned her head to search out and find Monica with a small happy smile and a nod.
Then he was enfolding her in his arms, drawing her against his chest and sealing their vows with his kiss while everyone stood up and clapped. Rio clapped him on the back and Felipe and Leonardo followed suit, nearly knocking the breath out of him.
He kissed Isabeau’s fingertips. “I can’t believe how beautiful you look.” He inhaled her fragrance; she smelled of cherry blossoms and fresh forest after a rain.
“The women helped me. They’ve been so wonderful.”
She looked so happy Conner kissed her again, vowing silently to try to find a way to repay the people of the valley. They’d turned this day into something magical. Their generosity seemed boundless. As the guests congratulated them, they each pressed a small gift into their hands. Each item was made with loving hands. All seemed priceless. A sharp hunting knife, the metal folded and honed into an edge that gleamed. A knitted pullover sweater for Conner. A cardigan and scarf for Isabeau. The wool had been spun and dyed right there in the valley. Isabeau’s personal favorite was a small bronze statue of two leopards, one a fierce male standing protectively above a female who nuzzled his throat. The beauty of the piece brought a lump to her throat.
Talk swirled around them and music started. The buffet tables were filled with wonderfully smelling food, and several of the women took turns taking plates and coffee to Elijah as he prowled the grounds and nearby forest to keep them all safe. Marcos flirted outrageously with the women, and laughter rang throughout the valley.
Conner pulled Isabeau into his arms, the music pounding through his veins in time to the beat of his heart. She fit perfectly, and the scent of her drifted through his lungs like fine wine. He rested his cheek against the soft silk of her hair, content to sway gently to the rhythm.
“I can’t believe they did this for us, Conner,” Isabeau said. “I was afraid I’d feel lonely and sad, and they’ve transported us into some magical realm.” She tilted her head to look at him. “They did this for your mother, for Marisa. She’s here with us. They all loved her and they took us in and made us family because of her.”
“She was magic,” Conner agreed. “She had a way of making every person feel important, maybe because, to her, they really were. I never really heard her say an unkind word. She took in Mateo and raised him as her own. And when I say “as her own” I mean she would love him the way she loved me. With everything in her.” His arms tightened around Isabeau. “I’m glad you had a chance to meet her.”
“I see her in you, Conner.”
“Do you?” He was really asking. Really hoping. “I was afraid I was all my father.” Hard. Mean. A man others would avoid.
“She’s in your eyes, Conner. And in the way you love. You didn’t hesitate to take Mateo in, even if it meant losing me. You would sacrifice for a small boy you don’t even know. Her kindness lives in each of the people she touched, in you and hopefully in your brother.”
He brushed kisses along the corners of her mouth. “We’ll see to it.”
“You aren’t worried, are you, Conner?” she asked. “We’ll find him and we’ll bring him out safely.”
“I’ve never thought about being a parent. First I was worried that I might not measure up as a mate to you, and now I have to worry about what kind of father I’ll make.”
She snuggled against his chest. “I don’t think you have to worry. You had a great example in your mother and, although my father did many things very wrong, he was a good parent to me. He loved me and made me feel important to him. He made certain I had a good education and always felt loved. I might not have had a mother, but I did have a father. You didn’t have a father but you had a great mother. Between the two of us, we’re bound to have picked up a few things.”
Conner looked around him at the men and women who had established a retirement valley. They grew food on their farms and most still worked at their occupations, but were now committed to the good of the community. “We have a wealth of knowledge right here,” he whispered against her ear. “Look at them all. They’ve already fought their battles and learned their lessons. We’ll settle somewhere close to them. You can still work with your plants in the rain forest, we can raise Mateo and any children we have nearby.”
“What about your work?”
He shrugged. “It isn’t that difficult. Rio sends for us when we have a job.”
She scowled at him. “I don’t think I’m going to be so willing for you to seduce a woman after this. I’d like to say my leopard wouldn’t be jealous . . .”
He laughed softly. “Your leopard would be spitting jealous. She’ll turn ferocious if she finds her mate near any other woman. Don’t worry, I gladly give up my job to one of the others. When I go”—because she had to know this was his life’s work—“I’ll go as one of the team, not the front man.”
Elijah passed by on his shifting patrol and one of the women handed him a strawberry lemonade. His smile was genuine, but she couldn’t imagine what he was thinking. Did they know about his past? Probably. The men and women in the retirement valley seemed to know about everything—leopard or human. They were accepting, tolerant people who were willing for anyone to live out their lives. No one asked him questions and he was treated with open friendliness.
Isabeau inhaled sharply, wanting to remember every detail, the setting sun turning the sky into an orange-red flame, the forest a silhouette of dark trees and brush and especially the fragrances mingling in the air. She could sort them all out if she chose, the food, the forest and each individual. She knew exactly where Mary and Doc were at any given moment. She threaded her fingers through Conner’s as they strolled around the yard talking to the various guests.
Mary, Ruth and Monica insisted they cut the cake and feed each other a slice, and Isabeau did so, laughing at Conner’s wry expression. The wedding had been his suggestion, but he hadn’t counted on the women of the valley pulling off a traditional wedding. She rested her back against him and looked around her, committing her magical wedding to memory.
A wave of heat poured over her unexpectedly, nothing at all like the other times. This was hot and fast and robbed her of breath. She nearly dropped her plate with the slice of cake. There was no mere itching beneath her skin, but a strong pushing, the pressure tremendous. Very carefully she put the plate on the table, each motion precise. She tasted fear in her mouth. She knew the leopard was not going to wait much longer. Her skin felt too tight and her mouth and jaw ached, teeth sensitive. Her eyesight blurred, eyes aching.
“Conner,” she whispered his name like a talisman.
“What is it, beloved?” he asked, and looked down into her face.
She saw the instant recognition. Her eyes had taken on the glow of the cat at night, wholly leopard now. There was panic on her face, something she couldn’t help. She knew it was different this time. Her heartbeat was different. Her skin burned, the weight of the dress painful. She wanted to tear it off her body, dig her nails into her own skin and shred it, peel it away. The heat came in waves, washing over her so that she could barely breathe.
He put his cake plate beside hers, just as carefully as she had. “Don’t be afraid, Isabeau. I’ll be with you. You’ll experience running free, feeling nearly euphoric. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
She breathed deeply, great gulps of air, trying to suppress the urge to rub herself all over him. She’d thought her addiction to his body was powerful before, but now, with the leopard’s needs surging to the surface, she couldn’t stand still. She stared into Conner’s face, despair in her gaze. She didn’t want to ruin their perfect time by ripping the priceless dress from her body, her leopard emerging to leap on the buffet table and smash the cake. For one awful moment, she envisaged the carnage.
“Keep breathing, baby,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist and all but pushing her through the back door into the house. He glanced over his shoulder. “Mary!” His summons was sharp. Imperative.
When Isabeau tried to reply, no coherent sound emerged, not with the way her throat felt closed and swollen. She was acutely conscious of the mechanics of her body. The way she took in air, the way it moved through her body. Each individual strand of hair on her head. Scents grew stronger, flooding her system until she feared it might shut down. Her body burned, tension coiling tighter and tighter, the itch growing not only through her skin, but through every cell in her body.
“I’ve got you,” Conner assured, thrusting her into the first room he came to.
She was moving continually, unable to stay still. The perfumed heat from the interior of the rain forest called to her. Walls seemed oppressive. She felt caged and claustrophobic. Her breasts felt swollen and achy, her nipples hard and so sensitive that with each step she took, as they rubbed against the material of the bodice, nerve endings sizzled and electrical charges raced straight to her core. She was melting from the inside out. Conner’s masculine scent overwhelmed her, his body heat making her catch fire as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of her wedding dress.